Out of the ashes
by Lyc Spryte
Summary: When an old favourite is forced to end his career after a horrific crash, no one believed it was at the hands of foul play. 5 years on reveals a bitter man, with no sense of hope or ambition. That is, until he is asked to look after his niece for the holidays. Can this young girl breath passion into an old racers life once more? And put his name back on a championship scoreboard?
1. Chapter 1

**Out of the ashes**

Hello readers. This is my first take on a Wipout fanfic. Not everything is as it is in the games, this is just my take on it. I hope you enjoy it!. 

**Chapter one**

Final lap  
Evox course  
3400 league  
Semi-finals qualifier  
5th place

_"Contender eliminated."_ The computer said, as an explosion caught the tail end of a craft up ahead. As he sped past the wreckage, Vern glanced in his rear view monitor to see a lonely capsule skidding along the middle of the track. A smoke cloud rolled into the sky above it, and pieces of debris lay everywhere. He smiled to himself, watching it shrink away into the distance. Looking up from the monitor again he glided his racer around a wide left turn. The leading group was just in front. They purposefully knocked into one another, each trying to force the other into the sloping walls. Shields flared a bright white when ever contact was made. One of the lead racers flew over a weapon pad and deliberately dropped back. As a few of it's opponents overtook it, the ship released two rockets from it's undercarriage. They struck viciously. The two lead craft were lifted off the track. One was sent spinning as their shields engulfed them in a second skin. The attacker flew beneath them, re-taking it's original position.

The rest of the leading group held back through the next set of rolling turns, waiting for a chance to steam ahead. Vern's nimble ship cut inside the corners and overtook several others. On the final turn before a tunnelled straight, the craft in second place smashed into the side of him. A white flash flared to Vern's left. He was forced up onto the sloped edge of the track and collided with the wall to this right. Another flash erupted on that side. Vern rolled around in his seat at the impact. He cursed to the other driver and angrily tilted the sticks left. His ship pushed back at the other vessel but was quickly forced against the wall again. His ship wasn't strong enough to break free. Vern tried again to nudge back, but the racer held him in place. He could see the end of the straight in the distance, a speed pad was coming up. Vern continued to fight with the other craft, trying to at least keep his wing off the wall. Red lights rolled over the racers in bands as they continued down the tunnel towards the exit. The speed pad was activated. Vern's light ship soared ahead, wrenching loose from its attacker. Scattered other speed pads were triggered, and within seconds, all the ships were hurtling at full speed. The tunnel exit grew very big, very fast. One last row of speed pads threw everyone over an incredibly steep drop. A coastal scene surrounded them as they flew high above the track. Vern pulled back on the controls, the nose of his ship tilted upwards and caught more air. Spread out now, the opposing ships began to descend one by one. Eventually succumbing to gravity. Vern's was the last to drop. He prepared for the landing, watching the wide right hand turn coming up. The anti-gravity pods barely withstood the fall. The edges of the wings briefly scraped the floor and the shields flashed as the racer bounced once. He had flown over the leading pack and now held first place.

More speed pads lay ahead. He ran them over and took the corner wide, running along the angled side at a severe tilt. A quick slalom afterwards caught him off guard. The nose of his ship scraped the outer wall, but he easily corrected for the error. On the last corner, the final straight was within reach. Vern pushed the nose down to gain more speed and hunched over the controls. Victory was so close he could almost taste it. His narrowed eyes suddenly opened with shock as his craft flashed white. "_Shields disabled"_ Spoke the ships computer. Before the belief could sink in, Vern was thrown forward. The harness dug into his shoulders as the straps tried to pull him back. The ships nose dug into the concrete sending sparks flying as it cartwheel onto it's roof and smashed into the adjacent wall. Vern yelled in pain as the ship crushed in on itself, trapping his legs beneath the console. The purple ship in second place whizzed past, reclaiming first position and entering the final straight. Vern cursed as recovery drones quickly arrived on the scene and dowsed the craft with extinguishers. While he was being lifted off the track, Vern could only watch as the rest of the racers flew past.

He punched the side of his capsule in anger.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

5 years later...

A young woman sat on the couch in a messy looking apartment. Last night's empty Chinese boxes littered the coffee table. In front of her she watched a live anti-gravity race. Her favourite, Mantis Industries, was leading the formation. The camera showed a top down angle of the track, and the racers careered fluidly around the corners like marbles in a marble run. One racer received a hail of gunfire from another behind it, but was shortly countered by a volley of mines. The camera changed to a track side position as the ships zipped past at high speeds. A replay rolled of a previous incident; an orange craft being blown apart over the lip of a drop. The commentators were saying how the shooter must have waited for that precise moment to fire. The girl was excited by the images. She sat hugging her knees, toes wiggling as she watched her favourite battle for first place, rubbing shields with an opponent.

"Turn that crap off will you?" Spoke a deep moody voice behind her. The girl turned around to see her uncle entering the room. He was dressed in a dressing gown and was rubbing one of his tired eyes. He had not long been up. He lent on a stick and walked over to the open plan kitchen.

"But George Winters is leading the Mantis team!" The girl tried to explain.

"I couldn't give a rat's ass about George Winters. Or his damn Mantis team." He said, opening the fridge door and taking out a beer.

"How can you say that!?" Asked the girl. "You used to race once!"

After cracking open the can and taking a swig, the man looked at her. "That was before I fucked up my leg." He explained.

"Maybe you're just a sore loser." The girl said returning to the screen. The man narrowed his eyes at his niece.

"How long did your parents say you were staying here for again?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Two weeks." She said, still watching the race. The man groaned. "You should really clean this place up by the way." She continued. "Mum wouldn't be impressed."

The man slumped beside her and picked up the remote. "If she's that concerned, she can come here and clean it herself." He said. He changed the channel just as The blue Mantis ship dodged a rocket.

"Uncle Vern!" The girl cried, dropping her knees and staring at him. Vern didn't bother looking at her as he lazily flicked through the channels. The girl could smell the stale beer on him. He smelt like he needed a bath too. She huffed and stood up. "You're an asshole." She sighed.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?" He asked her, ignoring the comment."

"Shouldn't you be looking for a job?" She said as she walked out of the room.

Upon her long and angry walk to school she wished her parents hadn't gone away. She could have sat in her own room, watching the race on her own television. And still have gotten a lift to class by her dad. While they were on holiday having fun, she had to stay with her alcoholic uncle! She failed to see the fairness in it all. As she approached the school gates, her best friend Lucy was exiting her parents car.

"Hey Nix!" Lucy said.

"Morning." Replied Nix as she walked near.

"How was your first night with your uncle? Oh my god, did you see the race!?" Her friend asked with excitement.

"Only half of it." Nix said angrily. "My uncle changed it over about half way through, so I didn't get to see the end."

"Well that sucks because it was awesome!" Squealed Lucy. "George Winters and Antonio Delsante were at each others throats during the last lap!" The pair walked among crowds of other students through the grounds to their form room.

"What happened!?" Nix eagerly asked.

Lucy told her the story, speaking with exaggerated hand gestures. "Delsante threw up a force-wall on the twisted head, but Winters blew straight past it! He dodged an EMP grenade and hit Delsante with couple of mines when they got onto the bridge. Winters only dropped back when a missile tailed him over the peak!"

"Was he hurt!?" Nix was concerned. She had a crush on the Mantis pilot since he arrived on the scene last year. Lucy made a 'pffft' sound as they entered the main building.

"As if!" She said. "Out of nowhere, Winters lets loose a flak round! Smacks Delsante square in the ass and throws him into a wall!"

"It was, amazing!" Said a tall young man who stepped in beside them.

"Needless to say," Continued Lucy. "Winters sailed home!"

The mans name was Ryan. A mutual friend to the girls. "Third straight win in a row." He said.

Anti-gravity racing was a hugely popular sport. It replaced regular racing twenty years ago, and had become the fastest growing spectator sport in history. Between lessons, there was normally discussion over teams and racers, and almost everyone, was talking about that morning's event.

At the end of the day, Ryan offered to walk Nix back to her Uncle's place. Ryan lived only a few minuets from school, and had a bit of a soft spot for her. He knew he was too far in the friendship zone for anything to happen at this point, but liked her company none the less. Nix let him join her walk back. On the way they debated the best class of racer. Nix preferred the sleeker craft, and liked the new KT series. Ryan had a passion for the older L2 class, claiming that the shield design was legendary.  
As they got near to where Nix was staying, she spotted her uncle down a side road, closing up a garage door.

"Hey." He greeted, walking forwards on his stick.

"Hey." Nix flatly replied. She was still sore at the sight of him for making her miss the race. "What's in the garage?" She asked as he stopped next to them.

Vern looked over his shoulder. "That? Just old memories." He answered.

"I'd best get going." Ryan said, looking over the large muscly bald man that stood before him. Vern looked at him with slight amusement. Did he frighten the boy?

"Oh, okay." Nix said. "Thanks for walking me back. See you tomorrow?"

Ryan smiled at her. "Of course." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the large man still looking at him suspiciously. He sheepishly turned around and walked away, leaving her uncle to walk her the rest of the way.

"Boyfriend of yours?" Vern asked.  
Nix sighed and walked off. "No, but you scared him off anyway!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"You never have to!" She called back.

When they got to the apartment, Nix headed straight for the spare room she was staying in, and slammed the door. Vern tried to coax her out, but recived a blast of insults such as; "You're a stuck up jerk!" and "You don't care about anything or anyone!"  
Vern sighed and walked down the hall to the living room, defeated. She was right though. He hadn't been the best uncle to her these past few years. He had grown stubborn. Things never used to be this way. Once upon a time, his niece practicaly worshiped him. He was her racing idol back then. No one had an uncle cooler than she did. After his accident, that all changed. Vern was admamant that his racer's shields had been tampered with. The racing federation's board of inquiry found no sustainable evidence of foul play during their investigations. He was cautioned about pointing the finger at the leading team; Orion Incorporate, who filed no charges against him for his acusations. His sponsors began to drift apart after that. No one wanted to invest money in a crippled racer. With no money to fund him, and a leg that showed no signs of improving, Vern Cage had to retire from his racing career.

He fell into the couch and kicked off his boots, leaving them where they landed. After a silent evening of beer and boring television, Vern fell asleep. When he came to, it was morning. In front of him on the coffee table, sat a cold cheese toastie. Next to it was an old photograph. Yawning, Vern lent forward and picked up the picture. It was an image of his first AG victory. With a big grin on his then-young face, he held in his hands a tall trophy. Behind him was his old racer, its hull scorched and tested from the fight it had just won. Instead of smiling at the memory, Vern looked at it puzzled. At that point, his niece entered the room dressed in a long t-shirt that came down to her knees.

"Hey." She greeted him. Her voice was almost timid.

Her uncle looked at her and held up the picture, confused. "Where did you get this?" He asked. No good morning, no apology for the day before. Nix dropped her shoulders and rolled her eyes. She had hoped that making him food and showing him a good time from the past would make things better. Or at the very least propose a truce.

"I found it." She said, walking to the fridge. "Your welcome by the way."

Vern followed her with his eyes, twisting in his seat. He cocked his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry, you went through my stuff?"

Nix removed a near empty bottle of orange juice and spun around to face him, her arms raised in question. "Is this how it's going to be?" She asked him in a raised tone. "We're going to have an argument every morning?"

"You went through my stuff!?" Vern pressed.

Nix rolled her eyes and threw up her hands again. "Yes. I did." She sighed. "There loads of your old racing stuff in there." She took the top off the bottle and gave the contents a sniff. "I thought that picture would make you happy." She said, pouring the juice into a glass. "Y'know? Remind you that everything's not a shit as you make it out to be." Vern didn't answer her. He turned back and closed his eyes, running a hand over his bald head. She went through his stuff! To be fair, what did he expect when he agreed to look after a fourteen yera old girl? Nix winced at the taste of the juice, it was sharper than she had anticipated. "Got anything for breakfast? I used the last of your bread last night."

"No." Vern said, absently thinking. Nix shook her head and walked out of the room carrying her orange juice. She should have guessed.

After about an hour, she returned, dressed and ready for school. She had her bag slung over one shoulder as she stood in the doorway waiting. Her uncle was desperatley looking for something. He lifted up the pillows to the couch, and checked throught the paperwork on the table. "So... Any chance I could get a lift in today?" She asked him. Vern didn't look at her. He opened a wooden trunk under the window sill and rummaged around inside.

"There's something I need to take care of Nix. I'm sure you know the way by now." Nix looked at her uncle with dissapointment. She remembered when he used to have all the time in to world for her. Now-a-days it seemed like she didn't even know him. She left without saying another word. It was only the closing of the door that caused Vern to stop and think about what had just happened. He gripped the rim of the trunk and sighed. Turning his head back to the table, he looked at the photograph Nix had left him. If only things were like they used to be.


End file.
